Four Year Old Woes
by dragonprincess1988
Summary: Tim got de-aged, and now Dick has to deal with it.


It wasn't supposed to be like this. This wasn't supposed to have happened. It was supposed to be a normal patrol. Thinking back on it, Dick should have known it wasn't going to be normal. It had been quiet…too quiet. It had been so quiet, in fact, that the two of them had just gotten done playing a round of rooftop tag, and he was busy mocking Tim for taking even that too seriously, when it happened. There was no warning, no maniacal laughter, nothing that suggested one of the big timers, but it had to be one of them. No small time thug would have been able to pull it off. He was sure of that, at least.

Dick sighed to himself. He guessed it didn't really matter why it had happened, who had done it, or how they had done it. All that really mattered right now was that he was stuck dealing with a four-year-old Timmy, and it was getting on his nerves. Tim wasn't a bad kid. He wasn't rambunctious, loud, or hyper; or for that matter, anything like a four-year-old should be, and Dick was getting annoyed. Tim just sat there…quietly…not doing ANYTHING. If Dick told him to color, he did. If he told him to watch TV, Tim did--and educational TV at that. It wasn't right. It just wasn't right at all.

What really bothered Dick the most was that if he didn't tell Tim to do anything, then Tim would just sit there silently waiting for something to do. Tim didn't even look like he had escaped into his own head to deal with the silence. He just sat there with this patient stare that said, 'whenever you're ready,' and it perturbed Dick to no end. True, he was used to that expression--but Dick had always assumed that it was something Tim had picked up _after_ he had become Robin. He hadn't honestly thought that Tim could have had that trait when he was four and then just made it into a Robin trait. It was just…wrong.

Dick took a deep breath before he walked back into the living room. He had just gotten off the phone with Zantana, and she had said to wait it out. She had told him that most de-aging spells simply wore off on their own, which didn't seem so bad, but it had only been a couple of hours since this whole de-aged mess that had been his patrol--and the silence was already unbearable. Dick smiled as he walked over to the couch. There was no reason to upset Timmy just because he had issues with unnaturally, completely wrong, silent four-year-olds. Tim looked up at him and seemed to take in everything, which wouldn't have been so weird if Tim wasn't currently four. At some point, Dick would move past that, but he figured the universe or whatever could just give him a moment to process. Dick was brought out of his thoughts by the small squeaky voice of the boy sitting on his living room floor. "Lemme guess, my parents are still outta town, so you'll be watching me."

Dick just blinked a few times. He hadn't actually decided what he was going to tell Tim, but that seemed like a fine lie to go with. Dick had been thankful that whatever the hell had de-aged Tim had also knocked him out, so all Dick had had to worry about was getting him off that rooftop and somewhere safe, without having to deal with anything else at that moment. Dick knew Tim was smart, even if he was four, but he still didn't think explaining to Tim that he had been de-aged would go over well. "Yeah, that's exactly right."

Tim just stared at him like he was waiting for something more. "Um, what am I suppose to call you, sir?"

Dick shook his head. He really couldn't handle Timmy using such proper language right now. "Dick will be fine."

Tim nodded once. "Okay, Dick. Um, I know I should be in bed right now, but I'm not really tired, and I just woke up and all, and I promise not to make any noise."

Dick cocked an eyebrow at him. Was Tim honestly asking to stay up? "Well, what would you do if I let you stay awake?"

Tim bit his lip. Normally, in these situations, the adults always just told him to just go back to bed, and lay there, despite not being tired. "I could read. I like to read, and you seem to have lots of books." He glanced over to the bookcase in the corner.

Dick had to smile at that, because most of those books either belonged to Tim or were given to him by Tim. "Yeah, I guess you could read for a bit, but I really do think that you need your sleep, so how about one book. I'll even read it to you, and then we can both get some sleep."

Tim's eyes lit up at the possibility of someone reading to him. "You…you'd want to read to me?"

Dick shrugged. He didn't see what the big deal was. "Sure, kiddo, go pick a book off the bookshelves."

Tim ran over to the bookcase, picked out a book, and ran back to Dick. "I like this one." He showed the book to Dick.

Dick took the book out of Tim's little hands and read the cover. After a moment, he smiled. "The Giver" was always one of Tim's favorites. "Alright, why don't we go into the other room? I don't need to fall asleep on the couch."

Tim quietly followed him, waited for Dick to get settled on the bed, and then moved to sit down on the other side. "I like this one. It's one of my favorites."

Dick laughed. "I know; I wasn't aware how young you were when you started reading it, but…" Dick trailed off when he realized what he had said.

Tim stared at him with a perplexed expression. "What do you mean?"

Dick shook his head as if to clear it. "Nothing, nothing, at all. Why don't you move closer? That way you can read along."

Tim bit his lip uncertainly again, and Dick had to wonder when Tim had trained himself not to do that. Slowly, cautiously, the boy moved closer to him, but made sure to keep from touching him. Dick sighed. "You can move closer, you know."

Tim shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I can see just fine from here. I don't have to crowd you."

Dick's eyebrows knitted together at that. "It's okay, kid, really."

Tim looked down at his hands as though he wasn't quite sure what to do. After a few seconds, Dick rolled his eyes and decided to take matters into his own hands. He reached for one of Tim's arms and gently pulled him closer. Tim didn't object; it almost seemed like he was grateful for the physical contact--which threw Dick off for a moment--but he just shrugged and continued with the motion. Once he had the four-year-old safely tucked beside him. Dick opened up the book and started to read.

Halfway through the book, Tim was asleep. Dick smiled to himself as he settled Tim down on the other side of the bed and moved to shut off the light. He had a feeling tomorrow was going to be an interesting day.

Dick awoke to the sound of pages turning. He turned over to find Tim reading. Taking a quick glance at the cover, Dick realized that at some point Tim had woken up, left the room, grabbed "A Tale of Two Cities" off of the bookcase in the other room, and had come back…all without him noticing. Either Timmy was really good at sneaking around, which Dick knew he was, or Dick was really out of it. Tim lifted his gaze from the book. "Did I wake you? Mommy says it's impolite to wake people."

Dick smiled as he shook his head. "Nah, you didn't wake me, but how long have you been awake? You look like you're a good bit into that book."

Tim shrugged. "Awhile."

Dick laughed. Of course four-year-old Timmy gave one word responses. Why should he have ever thought differently? "So, what do you want for breakfast?"

Tim chewed his bottom lip as he thought about it. "May I have pancakes?"

Dick was so disgusted with the all-too-proper response, that he had to hide his face for a moment. Tim didn't even talk like normal four-year-olds. Four-year-olds demanded pancakes, and even the really polite ones said, "Can I?" instead of, "May I." It was all just so wrong. "Yeah, you can have pancakes."

"Thank you."

That was it. Dick couldn't take it anymore. Tim was too prim and proper, especially since Dick had just noticed that the kid had already brushed his hair into something that, while acceptable for a boy like Tim, just irked him. Dick reached over and ruffled Tim's hair. He was actually a little surprised that Tim actually leaned into the touch, because it had taken almost a year before older Timmy did that. The kid seemed to just soak up the touch, and that seemed wrong, given how the older Timmy responded to physical contact. After a moment, Tim turned to him with big sad eyes. "You're frowning. What did I do wrong?"

Dick's eyes widened at the question, which was uttered so softly that he wasn't even sure he had heard it at first. "Nothing, you didn't do anything, kiddo."

Tim stared at him, clearly unconvinced. "Really?"

Dick nodded. "Yeah, I'm just…I just need some coffee." He was pretty sure that that wasn't going to be a good enough excuse, even for a four-year-old.

Tim seemed to consider that for a moment. "Yeah, my parents and housekeeper act really weird before they get their first cup of coffee in the morning. I'm still trying to work out why that is."

Dick laughed again. It seemed that Tim always liked to analyze people. "You'll understand it when you're older." At Tim's skeptical expression, Dick continued. "Trust me; it's just something most adults need to get their day started." Tim nodded once; apparently, he considered that to be an accurate assessment. Dick sat up and began stretching his arms. "So, why don't you come with me to the kitchen? You can help me make the pancakes."

Tim smiled brightly at that. "Really?"

"Yeah, sure, why not?"

"Mommy doesn't let me in the kitchen. She says I'll make a mess."

Dick rolled his eyes at that. "You can make all the mess you want." If he was talking to any other four-year-old, Dick would have thought that he had just signed his death warrant, but he wasn't even sure that Timmy could make a mess. He looked like he had stain-resistant genes.

The two of them walked into the kitchen, barefooted. Dick sat Tim at the table as he started putting the ingredients into the bowl. He set the bowl in front of Tim. "You're going to mix this together, okay?"

Tim held the bowl tightly in his little arm as he started stirring the ingredients together. Dick watched him to make sure he didn't spill it. After a few moments he passed the bowl back to Dick. "Is it mixed enough?"

Dick took a look at the bowl. "Yeah, but I think I forgot to put something in the mix."

Tim's eyebrows knitted together. "What did you forget?"

Dick started rummaging through his cupboard. After a few moments he came back holding a plastic bag. "First lesson, Timmy--chocolate chips make everything better." Dick dumped the chocolate chips into the bowl and then headed back over towards the stove.

"I think my housekeeper would disagree with you. She says that too much chocolate makes kids spoiled."

Dick rolled his eyes as he started spooning batter onto the already heated pan. "Well, your housekeeper isn't here, is she? Besides, I think you deserve it."

Tim smiled at him again. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course." Dick wasn't comfortable with the amount of reassurance this kid seemed to need. He didn't remember Lian ever being like this, but then again, maybe that was because Lian had a lot more 'family' than Tim ever did.

The two of them were silent as Dick made the pancakes. The silence didn't bother him nearly as much as before, but Dick was pretty sure that it was just because he was used to silent breakfasts. Dick sat a plate in front of Tim before sitting next to him. He didn't foresee Tim needing help cutting his pancakes, but he guessed that the possibility was always there. "So, what do you want to do after breakfast?"

Tim stared at him, clearly confused. "What do you mean?"

Dick wanted to laugh, because no one, not even a four-year-old, should look that confused at such a simple question, and certainly not a four-year-old as smart as Tim. "What do you think I mean?"

"It doesn't work that way."

Now it was Dick's turn to be confused. "Okay, so how does it work?"

Tim gave him the 'it's so obvious, why don't you know this' expression, which Dick was quite familiar with, thanks to older Tim. "You're supposed to just tell me what to do, and I'm just supposed to do it. No one ever asks me what I want to do. That's not part of the…agenda." The last word was spoken slowly, as if Tim was trying to remember the right way to say it after hearing it enough times.

Dick didn't know how to respond to that. Sure, he was four, and most four-year-olds really didn't get a say in a lot of things, but no one's childhood should be scheduled out to within an inch of their life. "Well, today's a special day. We'll do whatever you want to do."

Tim gave him a look that was far too distrusting for a four-year-old. "Why? What's wrong?"

"What?"

"The only time 'special' days happen is when something bad happened. Like the time that my goldfish died, or when mommy and daddy had a fight and I was taken to the park for a 'special' outing."

Dick shook his head at that. "Nothing's wrong. I promise."

Tim bit his lip uncertainly again. "Are you sure?"

"Course, I'm sure."

Tim stared at him for a moment longer, like he was trying to find the lie, after a moment he seemed to accept the answer. "Okay, I believe you."

"So, what do you want to do today?"

Tim chewed on his bottom lip as he considered his options. "I like the museum. Could we go there?"

Dick smiled at that. He kind of figured it was going to be something educational. "Yeah, we can do that, but I think we've got to go shopping first. You need a jacket, and I don't have any here that will fit you."

Tim nodded as he got up and very carefully placed his plate on the counter next to the sink. "If you want, I can go put on my shoes while you finish eating."

"Yeah, sure, go ahead."

Tim left the room to grab his shoes. Dick was just grateful that they had happened to be near a clothing store when Tim got de-aged. He felt a little bad about breaking in to get clothes for Tim, but he really hadn't wanted to explain to a four-year-old why he was dressed as a miniature Robin, and it wasn't like he hadn't left money on the counter for the stuff. He was in a rush, so Dick had only grabbed one outfit to change Tim into right then and there, and a pair of tennis shoes. Steel-toed Robin boots, while cute on a four-year-old, were also just a bad idea. Dick was fairly certain that he was going to need to buy Tim more than just a jacket while they were out today. After all, he had no idea how long Tim was going to be de-aged, and once this was all over, he'd donate the clothes to the nearest shelter.

Dick finished his own breakfast, and washed the dishes. He made sure that Tim was ready, and then headed for his car. For once, Dick's busy schedule and need to use his bike more than his car was working in his favor. Dick still had the car seat in place from his outing with Lian the other day. Normally, he wouldn't have noticed that he had forgotten to remove it until he went to go put something in the back seat and found the car seat in his way. Once he was sure that Tim was secured, Dick headed straight for the nearest clothing store. He wanted this over with as quickly as possible. Sales people had a tendency to bother him.

An hour later, Tim had enough outfits for a week, and the two of them had made it to the museum without too much of a hassle. Tim was reading the plaques in front of the dinosaur exhibit when Dick noticed that his shoe was untied. "Hey, buddy, why don't I tie that for you, so that you don't trip?"

Tim glanced down at his shoe. "Um, okay, but I can tie it myself."

Of course Tim knew how to tie his own shoes at four. Not that it mattered. Dick was still going to do it for him, even if it was to just make himself feel better. "Sometimes I think you really don't need people at all, Timmy."

Tim nodded as he watched Dick tie his shoe. "Well, I've tried to get my parents to just leave me home by myself, but mommy said that people wouldn't care how smart I am. They'd still think that she was neg…negli…"

"Negligent." Dick supplied for him.

"Yeah, that…what's that mean anyway?"

"It means that she's a bad mommy who doesn't pay enough attention to you or doesn't take care of you properly."

Tim looked down at the ground again. "Oh…well, I don't want people to think I have a bad mommy. Mommy says that's why I have to be polite, even to Sally, who pushes me into the mud at the park. Because if I wasn't nice to Sally and Sally's mommy, then people would think I have a bad mommy who doesn't dis..disiplin me correctly."

"Maybe Sally's mommy needs to discipline her a little more; did you ever think of that?"

Tim shook his head. "No, everyone else likes Sally. Mommy says I'm the only one who blames Sally for my bad behavior. She doesn't believe me when I tell her that Sally pushes me into the mud. She thinks I like to play in the mud and use Sally as a scapegoat, whatever that means. Plus, I hate mud."

Suddenly the fact that Tim was able to follow them around with a camera and not get caught by his parents made sense. Clearly, the Drakes hadn't known anything about their son when he was young. "So, Timmy, what do you want to do after the museum?"

Tim just shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, do you want to go get some ice cream?"

"Um…" Tim glanced down at the ground and looked like he really wanted to object to that suggestion.

"What?"

"Well, frozen yogurt is better for you."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Okay, I have a feeling you shouldn't even know that yet."

"What?"

"You're a kid. Act like one."

Tim looked like he was ready to cry. "I'm sorry."

Dick was suddenly confused by the reaction. "For what?"

"You're mad, and it's my fault, and I don't know how to fix it."

Dick knelt down, so that he was eye level with Tim. "I'm not mad. I just think you should enjoy your childhood while it lasts."

Tim took a moment to consider that. "Okay, well in that case, I like chocolate."

Dick smiled as he ruffled the kid's hair. "Chocolate it is then."

After the museum and their ice cream run, Dick took Tim to the park. They sat on a bench and ate their ice cream. Dick had to convince Tim that was okay to get a cone instead of bowl, and that if he made a mess it wasn't a big deal. It had taken nearly five minutes for him to make an argument that Tim would actually accept. It would have been funny had it not been so damn frustrating. Once they finished their ice cream cones, Dick told Tim to go play, but he seemed really reluctant to leave Dick's side. "It's okay, buddy. I'll be right here. You can go play."

Tim shook his head. "If it's okay with you I'd rather stay right here."

Dick sighed. "Tim is there a reason you don't want to go play?"

"I don't like mud."

It took Dick a second to get the reference. "Tim, it hasn't rained in a week. There is no mud, and I can guarantee you that no one's going to push you into the dirt."

Tim chewed on his lip. "Okay, but only if you're absolutely sure."

Dick smiled at him slightly. "Tell you what. I'll go with you. That way if someone does push you into the dirt I'll know who it is, okay?"

Tim still seemed reluctant to go, but did as he was told. Tim walked over to the swings very hesitantly, as though they were going to attack him. Tim looked like he didn't even know how to play, much less enjoy it. Slowly he got onto a swing, and started swinging. He stayed on the swing for exactly one minute then he came right back over to Dick. "Okay, I did what I was told. May I go home now?"

Dick was a little horrified by the kid's reaction. "Timmy, this isn't some sort of punishment. You're allowed to have fun."

Tim stared down at the ground. "Okay."

Dick sighed to himself. "How about we go back to my place? You can pick any book you want off my bookshelf and I'll read to you."

Tim's face lit up at that. "REALLY?"

Dick laughed at the reaction that got him. "You bet."

When they got to Dick's place, Dick made Tim something to eat while Tim picked out his book and then went to put on his pajamas. Dick set two plates on the table just as Tim was walking in. "I put the book on your bed. Is that okay?"

Dick nodded to him. "Yeah, that's fine. I made grilled cheese. How do you feel about that?"

Tim smiled as he began to eat. "I love grilled cheese, even if most of the time adults burn them."

Dick grinned as he watched Tim devour the grilled cheese. "Good, so what book did you choose?"

"The Hobbit…mommy doesn't like that one because it's not realistic, but I enjoy it."

"God kid, why do you try to live up to that unrealistic bit…" Dick stopped the moment he realized what was about to come out of his mouth. "I mean, well as long as you like it, that's all that matters."

The two of them sat in awkward silence for a moment before Tim spoke. "Did you know that Gummy Bears started in Canada?"

Dick wasn't aware that one of Tim's defense mechanisms was to spout off random information. He wondered how long it took for him to suppress that habit. "No, what else do you know about Gummy Bears?"

"They were introduced in 1950. They were the first gummy treat. Gummy Worms came after Gummy Bears, even if Sally doesn't believe me."

Dick nodded as he finished his grilled cheese. "Good to know."

The two of them fell silent after that, and Dick watched as Tim finished his grilled cheese. Dick took his plate for him. "Why don't you go settle on the bed, while I deal with these?" He gestured to the plates he was holding.

Tim nodded silently as he walked into the other room. When Dick came into the bedroom, he found Tim sitting against the headboard, patiently waiting for him. Dick sat down on the bed and pulled Tim close to him as he opened the book and started reading.

Dick actually managed to get to the end of the book this time before Tim fell asleep. Dick grinned to himself as he placed the book down and shut off the light. He fell asleep cradling the four-year-old against his side.

Dick awoke the moment he felt the small warm body next to him stiffen. He glanced down to see that Tim was still sleeping. His little forehead crinkled in what looked like pain. After a few seconds, Tim's breathing became ragged, and he started to thrash slightly. Dick was about to wake him from the nightmare when Tim's eyes flashed open. He glanced around the room taking everything in and then turned very wide eyes on Dick. "Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to…"

Dick put a hand over his mouth before he could apologize again. "Hey, it's okay. It was just a bad dream. You're okay. There's no reason to apologize." Dick moved his hand into Tim's hair, gently soothing him.

Tim shook his head against Dick's hand. "No, I shouldn't have woken you. Bad dream or not, that doesn't matter, it was still bad."

Dick's eyebrows furrowed at that, because now Tim was just being silly. "You didn't wake me up, and you can't control your nightmares."

"Mommy doesn't think so."

Dick took a calming breath before answering that one. "Well, mommies aren't always right, and I'm telling you that it's fine." Dick waited until he was sure that Tim had heard him and believed him before continuing. "So, do you want to tell me what your dream was about?"

Tim shook his head again, but didn't say anything.

Dick slid his hand down to Tim's back and started rubbing in small slow circles to comfort the boy. "It might help."

Tim bit his lip uncertainly, and Dick made a mental note to ask Tim when he was re-aged when exactly that habit had stopped, given how often he seemed to do it as a four-year-old. "It's stupid, and childish, and you don't want to hear about it."

Dick rolled his eyes at that. "Okay, first off, you do actually understand that you are a child, right? Second, if I didn't want to hear about it I wouldn't have asked."

Tim stared at him in disbelief. "Mommy says that when people say that, they're just being nice, and I should be good and polite and I shouldn't be obnox…obnox…"

"Obnoxious?" At Tim's nod, Dick continued. "Timmy, you are never obnoxious. You're always good and polite, and I really do want to hear about your dream if you're willing to tell me."

Tim gazed down at his tiny hands as though they were the most interesting thing in the world. "Well, it was just…my parents had left for another trip…but this time…this time they didn't come back, and they were never coming because I was bad and they didn't want me…and…and it was stupid."

Dick was pretty sure he was seeing tears well up in those tiny blue eyes. Dick gathered Tim into his arms and let Tim cry on his chest. "Hey, it's okay, you know it was just a dream, and your parents love you." At least Dick thought they did…kind of.

After a few moments, Tim sniffed a few times and then wiped his eyes. "I'm sorry for crying on you, and getting your shirt wet. That wasn't very ma…matur…mature of me."

Dick held him close for a little longer before letting the kid sit up. "It's fine, Timmy, and I think you are plenty mature already. Trust me, I really wouldn't mind it if you acted a bit more like a kid every now and then."

Tim pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his little arms around himself. "Mommy wouldn't like that. She likes it when I act mature."

Dick sighed. "I know, and being mature isn't bad, but acting your age every once in awhile isn't bad either, kiddo."

Tim sniffed one last time before unfolding himself. "If you say so."

Dick nodded firmly. "I do; now, why don't we go see what I have in my fridge for breakfast."

Tim slid off the bed and followed him into the kitchen. Dick was thankful that he actually had some cereal that he was pretty sure Tim would like. He poured two bowls, and then set one in front of Tim. Tim stared at it for a moment as though he didn't know what to do with it. "What's the matter, Timmy?"

Tim glanced up to him almost like he was afraid to say anything. "Um, you forgot to give me a spoon."

Dick laughed. "So, I did, sorry about that, kiddo." Dick handed him a spoon, and watched with delight as the kid dug into his cereal.

After breakfast, the two of them went into the living room and Dick let Tim decide what to watch. He wasn't at all surprised when they started watching Animal Planet. Dick grinned as Tim stared intently at the screen. Suddenly Tim turned toward Dick. "Hey, Dick?"

Dick raised an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, Timmy?"

"Thanks for…you know, being so nice to me."

Dick ruffled the kid's hair and then pulled him into a tight hug. "You're a good kid, Tim. Please don't ever forget that. No matter what anyone else says, okay? You're a good kid."

Tim shrugged at him. "If you say so."

Dick crushed him next to his side. "Of course I say so. I know you…extremely well...at least I usually think I do." Dick stopped at that. He didn't need to confuse a four-year-old. He ruffled Tim's hair again just for the fun of it. "Watch your show about the…what is that thing?" Dick stared at the screen for moment, truly perplexed by what he was seeing.

Tim gave him that 'why don't you know this, it's so simple' expression again as he folded his arms over his chest. "That's an Aye-aye. It's a type of lemur. It's native to Madagascar."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Of course you know that. You know everything."

"It's impossible to know everything, because…" Tim was interrupted by Dick reaching over and tickling him.

Tim was in the middle a hysterical laughing fit when all of a sudden there was a loud POP and abruptly a much older Tim sat in front of Dick. Tim sat up, looked around, and then crossed his arms over his chest. "What the hell just happened? The last thing that I remember we were on patrol and you were berating me for being too serious, and you know how I feel about that."

Dick sighed to himself. This was going to be a long conversation. "You were de-aged."

"What? Again?"

The end


End file.
